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Showing posts from July, 2016

Stuff (Blogophilia 23.9)

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Stuff My stuff Your stuff Keep your hands off my stuff Your stuff is my stuff Says so in Genesis, Canaanite. Rumors of revenge deaf on my ears What’s that you say? When a man cheats another He is trash? Even if he is rich? Even if he is royalty? By who’s authority? I’m the authority The one that matters Wheel away, now Beggar! Heat at my rear, where from? An evil spell? Can’t move my arm. Silver ball approaches Soft hands on my head Glug...glug...glug... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Gerard Villegas Pic- Stephen Lee Pic guesses-Wheel away (in blog), spinster, joyless, stormy, evil, black rainbow, kansas, dognapped, no toto. Note: the original Harper Lee quote is: “As you grow older, you’ll see white men cheat black men every day of

Donkey Show (Blogophilia 22.9)

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The first day of the Republican National Convention is in the books. Based on what I saw last night, this fiasco looked like it was put together by this guy: Doesn't he look like a political maven? Innuendo and character assassination is common in politics, but Trump and company is taking it to new levels. Trump calling a rival an embarrassment is just another look in the mirror for him. Look At Little Sister! she copied and pasted the “enemy’s” speech is just another piece of the show. Are you not (politically) entertained?   I guess it has become a flight of fancy to think there are any political leaders that care about peace...or love...or anything but fiddling while the world burns. George Carlin called elections an illusion of choice. Make the masses feel somewhat better that they think they have a (small) say in the matter. He only scratched the surface. This whole mess looks like the fight scene in Idiocracy . Our “choices” boil down to: A mi

Body Shaming

The internet is a funny place. For some reason, it makes people think that their actions are totally anonymous at that voyeurism is a good thing. Take the case of Dani Mathers. A self absorbed, entitled Aryan who thinks it is cool to make fun of the "less than perfect" among us. Here is a link, if you have been hiding under a rock. I can't unsee this. Now, of course, the picture is embarrassing for the subject and she didn't give permission for the shot. Most people have an expectation of privacy in a changing room. Ms. Mathers chose to act like some middle school drama queen and used modern hen-pecking methods for her own amusement. But let me go on record, if I weren't married, I would choose the subject of the photograph as my partner over her. It doesn't matter where the rolls or scars are, they are to be celebrated along with everything else. Ms. Mathers has nothing I want to celebrate.

Holly (Blogophilia 21.9)

Blue moon  You saw me standing alone  Without a dream in my heart  Without a love of my own         Billie Holiday’s dulcet voice drifted in the dark car like a misty Minnesota Morning. Flashes of light illuminating the rain covered Buckhead streets. Almost like a rock in his shoe, an unease came over Bart. A storm was coming. He had rode them out before, but this one was different from Amy, somehow. At the next light, he gently brushed the bangs of her wig. With a small purr, the head fell toward the touch and her eyes fluttered open.    “Amy, have you come for me?”   As if he had touched a live wire, he pulled his hand away.    “What did you say?”   Slowly, Holly awoke. Looking at the shocked face, she began to laugh.   “You look like you saw dead people.” Putting a hand on his leg. “It’s O.K, I was dreaming. An angel with beautiful black hair was next to me. She kind of looked like Amy.”   “Really?”   “It’s not

Night on the Town (Blogophilia 20.9_

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 Everytime we say goodbye  I die a little Every time we say goodbye  I wonder why a little  Why the gods above me  Who must be in the know  Think so little of me  They allow you to go  Tuesday night was always light, a small crowd wanting slow music and good drinks. On the half-filled floor, the mismatched couple drifted contently in each others’ arms to Tony Bennet’s voice. Shag cut platinum wig reflected red and green stars under a floppy blossom covered bonnet. The sunflower dress cinched her frail body at the waist in such away that it appeared she had a stunning figure. He dressed in his best suit with a little cologne.  It had been a long day at the hospital, with tests and a session. Some news was promising and other things that were concerning. But there were no false illusions. They needed a diversion from the darkness. Out of the blue, she said she wanted to go dancing. Exhaustion and exhilaration alternated in her face as the tempo

A Gratuitous, Attention Seeking Post

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Being the modern, SEO driven individual I am, I was profoundly disappointed when I discovered I was completely invisible on Bing. However, I did find this video and all other arguments are invalid. That was bing.com Don't forget that while you bogart that joint.